I Can Break Too
by AndAnotherOneBitesTheDust
Summary: It's been quite a while since anyone on the Team has seen Nightwing since they snapped at him for lying - for keeping secrets from them - and they're not too concerned. Whenever they receive calls or texts, they're efficiently ignored. The only one who still speaks to the bird clad in blue is Robin. When something happens... Will they care? (HIATUS)
1. Chapter One: Would They Even Care?

A/N: Okay so I know I've got two active stories I'm working on, but I couldn't help myself. Dickie has been my favorite Robin in YJ for the longest (Tim is vague and Jason's only been displyed as a holograohic image in the Grotto. S'far as I know, Damian still ain't Robin and m'cool with that. (*cough* Not the biggest fan of the brat *cough* )) and... Again, I couldn't help myself. *Insert sheepish grin* This chapter s'a bit odd, but the rest won't be like this one. They'll probably have some like this sprinkled in, but they won't all be like this. (Maybe this is a one-shot. We shall see, my friends ;)

Bold with a name in front (ex. **Dick:** or **Tim:** ) is text messages. Italics are thoughts.

I really hope you enjoy!

 **Reccomended Song:** All We Do by Oh Wonder

 **WARNING:** Suicidal Actions/Thoughts, Depressing Thoughts. I'll seperate the parts with the Suicidal Actions with |~oOo~| for those of you who are uncomfortable with that type'a stuff.

* * *

 **Would They Even Care?**

 _Matthew 19:30 - But those who are last wil be first, and those who are first will be last_.

* * *

 _ **All we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is chase the day.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is chase the day.**_

When one thinks of Dick Grayson - when one thinks of Nightwing, they think of someone cheerful, happy, kind, and uplifting. They think of someone who has defied gravity so often it's normal. They think of someone invincible, untouchable, _unbreakable_. They think of their strong leader. They think of the **other** Bats.

So when they berated him; when they yelled at him for the secrecy - for the **lies** \- they didn't think he'd be affected by it too much. They must've thought the ex-Robin and current leader of the Young Justice team would be able to shrug it off. So when he called, they blocked him. When he texted, they ignored it. They figured he probably wanted to just yell at them for doing something wrong on a recent mission, not try and apologize. They didn't _**think** _Nightwing would bother trying to explain himself - he was a **Bat** after all.

But they were **wrong** in their assumptions. They were **wrong** to think of Nightwing - of _Dick_ \- as anything above human; as anything that cannot be fazed by words. As anything that cannot be **broken** by words.

They were painfully wrong.

 _ **All we do is lie and wait.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is lie and wait.**_

 _ **All we do is feel the fade.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is feel the fade.**_

Dick stared at the bottle of painkillers in his hand; glanced over at the knife in his other one. The pill bottle had directions but... Why would Dick need them? He knew how much he should take, and knew when to take them.

He felt numb, truth be told. It was no secret that Nightwing wore his heart on his sleeve, so different from the second Robin, who wore his heart on his cheek (A/N: If you don't know that meaning, Google it. It helps to understand), and the third Robin, who resembles the Batman more than his predecessors. Nightwing has always been a very emotional type of person, constantly needing some form of physical affection. Whether it be a hug, kiss, or a simple caring touch, the first Robin had craved it.

And it hurt when they all screamed at him, cursed him, **damned** him for the decisions he made. They... They didn't understand and wouldn't listen when he tried to explain. All of a sudden, Nightwing had been blacklisted. Nobody called him for back-up, nobody called him for info, nobody asked him for even so little as a _favor_.

And it - all of it - took it's tole. Batman went missing and Gotham was thrust into chaos, the League needed him more than ever, Blüdhaven still needed Nightwing, and he had to be there for Tim, Damian, and Jason. Not to mention his responsibilities as the Team's leader. All of the responsibilities... Being Batman came first. Batman made the difficult decisons that nobody else would. Batman showed no regret for his choices. Batman was a confident leader that nobody dared doubt.

...Dick couldn't be Batman like Bruce had been.

Now Dick was alone, except for Tim, Dami, and Jay, who stood by his side throughout it all. But... It wasn't enough. The regret and pain and... and the remorse Dick felt because of what the Team had every right to accuse him of - what Wally had the right to accuse him of... It was eating him up alive and Dick couldn't take it anymore.

He was choking; drowning, in it all. And...

And he just wanted it all to **stop**. To **go away**.

 _ **I've been upside down,**_

 _ **I don't wanna be the right way 'round.**_

 _ **Can't find paradise on the ground.**_

 _ **I've been upside down,**_

 _ **I don't wanna be the right way 'round.**_

 _ **Can't find paradise on the ground.**_

Dick put the pill bottle down. Maybe he shouldn't do this... Tim would beat himself up over it, Damian would be **pissed** , and Jason... Dick wasn't sure how Jason would react. Would the wayward Bat even go to his brother's funeral? Dick supposed it would be okay if he didn't. After all, the eldest hadn't attended Jason's when he'd died. Maybe they'd be torn up over it. Dick didn't want them to feel bad...

But he wanted to be **selfish**. Dick was **always** thinking about others and just this once he wanted to do what **he** wanted. Dick wanted to do what **he** needed to.

...What he needed to do.

To make the pain go away.

 _ **All we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is chase the day.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is chase the day.**_

Dick couldn't see the bright side of anything anymore and... It scared him. **Terrified** him, to be precise.

But nobody cared, and he was **tired** of being afraid. **Tired** of being in pain. **Exhausted** of trying to push on; of trying to _**chase the day**._

In a final act of... of... Regret? Dick grabbed his phone and texted Roy. Roy was the only one of his friends who hadn't abandoned Dick; the only one who tried to understand and forgave his long-time friend.

 **Dick: Hey, R. Been like, what, a few days since we've talked? Heh. Nice that someone other than the Bats care. I guess we've always been like brothers, though, right? I wouldn't know, I guess, but I hope so.**

 **Dick: Anyways. I wanted to know if you could talk to the Team for me..? Y'know, tell them that I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry for lying to them. I'm sorry for not telling them the plan, and I'm sorry... I'm sorry for...**

 **Dick: Existing.**

 **Dick: ... But I'll right one wrong, I guess. Heh. Yeah. Tell them they won't need to worry about seeing me again. And my brothers... Blackbird, Red Robin, and Red Hood... Tell them it wasn't their fault. That there wasn't anything they could do (and there's nothing you can do either, Roy, but it's okay) and it's not their fault (or yours). Its not. I just... Everything's been piling up and...**

 **Dick: I'm tired, Roy.**

 **Dick: It's rude of me to ask this of you without telling you something too right? Well, Roy, there isn't much I can tell you except a huge thank you. Thank you, for being there for me when I needed you most. Thank you, for being like an honorary brother.**

 **Dick: Thank you.**

|~oOo~|

Dick turned his left wrist to face upwards, pressing the tip of the frseshly sharpened blade to the underside of his forearm, having put the phone down. Applying pressure, Dick didn't so much as wince as the blade pierced his flesh. Blood instantly began running down the length of his arm, stopping at his elbow where it began to pool and drip from.

Nightwing dragged the blade downwards, opening the small puncture wound to a large slit in his arm.

|~oOo~|

 _ **All we do is play it safe.**_

 _ **All we do is live inside a cage.**_

 _ **All we do is play it safe.**_

 _ **All we do, all we do.**_

 _ **I've been upside down,**_

 _ **I don't wanna be the right way 'round.**_

 _ **Can't find paradise on the ground.**_

 _ **I've been upside down,**_

 _ **I don't wanna be the right way 'round.**_

 _ **Can't find paradise on the ground.**_

Dick had nothing left to live for. Maybe he had people to live for, but, again, he... Dick wanted to be selfish **just this once**.

Dick needed to be selfish **just this once**. Maybe he sounded like a broken record, but essentially... That's just what he is.

Broken.

 _ **All we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is hide away.**_

 _ **All we do is chase the day.**_

 _ **All we do is, all we do is chase the day.**_

He's tired.

He's hurting.

He wants it to **end.**

 _ **All I did was fail today.**_

|~oOo~|

He pressed the blade down harder before lifting it. Blood dripped down the knife and Dick watched as it dripped down the sharpened edge.

Dick swapped hands the blade was in, turning his right wrist upwards and dragging the blade down the length of the underside of his forearm.

|~oOo~|

 _ **All I wanna be, is whites in waves.**_

Dick tossed the blade out of the bathtub he was sitting in. He watched the blood flow from his arms with every move they made lazily.

Distantly.

He grabbed the pill bottle.

It's funny. Dick just wanted to... disappear. He wanted to simply fade away, out of everyone's lives. All he did was make them worse anyways, right? Think about it! Even his brothers' lives! For Jason, he'd failed as a brother. For Tim, he'd failed as a brother. Again. He chose Damian over Tim. Even Damian he'd failed. For Damian, he left. He just stopped going to see the kid recently. Cass... Geez, Dick couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his sister.

He failed.

That's... All he can seem to accomplish.

He failed.

 **Failed** at what he swore to try his hardest at.

 **Family**.

 _ **All I did was fail today.**_

Dumping the contents of the bottle into his palm, Dick blinked at the small pile of circular pills. Advil is supposed to be the best, right? The best pain-reliever? Maybe this would do it the quickest, then.

Tossing the now-empty bottle of pills after the blade, Dick tipped his head back.

|~oOo~|

Sliding his eyes shut, Dick slid the blood-covered pills into his mouth. It was rather difficult since there were so many, but with the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth (from the pills which had been soaked in the liquid), Dick swallowed them.

Wincing at the feeling, Dick tried for the waterbottle to his left. It was hard to get a good hold on the bottle since his fingers were slicked with blood and what-not, but eventually, Dick managed to grab it and twist the cap off. Pouring some water in his mouth, Dick washed down the pills and blood.

|~oOo~|

 _ **All we do, all we do.**_

Dick slid down into the tub deeper; exhaustion overcoming him. Must be the blood loss. Oh well.

At least now he'd be free.

 _At least now they know I can break too._


	2. Chapter Two: I'll Be There

A/N: Here you go! *plops chapter into FanFiction* Urk. I always type up my Author's Notes first, so... We shall see how long this chaptah will be, and who it'll revolve around. ;) Oh and I should probably _maybe_ tell you guys how I have this laid out. Okay, so bear with me 'cause I can never properly explain myself. Dick, Wally, and Roy were still best friends, but when Roy came back as Red Arrow, he was instead Arsenal working with Jason (I'm talkin' Season 2-ish) rather than flyin' solo (keeping the YJ look for Roy, by the way. Jason's look is coming from " _Red Hood and Arsenal_ ", but with the usual green eyes I give him (Pit green eyes)). Dick was Nightwing, but donned the cape and cowl for Gotham, so he still had all those responsibilities he was juggling and his job at the BPD (Blüdhaved Police Dept.). By this point, Jason has made up with the Bat-Clan and has no problem working with any of them (minus Babs and Dami for my own reasons). Dick and Jason have a great relationship, but like always when it comes to me (I can't help myself), Jason and Tim have the best bond.

Again, bold with a name in front (ex. **Roy:** or **Jason:** ) is text messages. Italics are thoughts. No suicidal actions.

Enjoy and please Review! (Tell me how I did Roy. I tried to do him as best I could...)

 **Recommended Song:** Count on Me, by Bruno Mars

 **WARNING:** None, unless you have a soft spot for Dick Grayson. Then I wouldn't recommend this story at all.

* * *

 **I'll Be There**

 _Sirach 6:14 - Trustworthy friends are like a strong shelter; whoever finds one has found a treasure_

* * *

Roy sighed, resting Lian on his hip with one hand, and making her bottle with the other.

Why is it that Jade just feels like she can drop Lian off with him whenever, and just **leave**? Someone **please** answer that question.

No really.

Roy's begging here.

Someone explain women.

Walking out of his room, Jason yawned. Oh, Roy forgot to mention...

 **Jade dropped Lian off while** _ **Arsenal**_ **was working with Red-fucking-Hood.**

Luckily, Jason likes kids, and seems to be a God damn **miracle worker** whenever it comes to watching Lian.

"Morni-" Jason blinked slowly three times, staring at the little girl in Roy's arms. The archer rolled his eyes. Sometimes, one should come to expect this. Jade does it often enough; Roy has no idea why Jason's surprised. "...Hey Li-li. Morning Roy." And with that, Jason flopped onto one of the sofas face-first.

"It's actually, like, eight thirty-two pm..." Roy trailed off at the look Jason had turned his head to give him. Roy sighed. "Hey Jaybird."

"Unca Jay!"

Roy stared down at his daughter. She can **talk?!**

Jason seemed equally surprised as he, again, blinked up at the girl. "Uh. Hey Li-li."

Lian began to squirm and reached for Jason. A bit hurt - because **c'mon, Jason's not her dad** \- Roy handed her to the startled Bat.

Turning back to the bottle, Roy fought to get the top off embarrassingly hard. "The fuck do they think they're trying to contain? Radioactive acid?"

Jason opened his mouth to reply, but Lian chose that moment to stuff the small elephant toy she'd been holding in his mouth.

"Lian!" Roy hastily set the bottle down and grabbed his squealing daughter away from the choking anti-hero.

Jason's eyes were wide and he coughed, pounding his fist against his chest as soon as Lian was safely out of his lap. Finally, with one last hit, the offending elephant was expelled from Jason's throat. "Ahh. Shit, remind me never to open my mouth around that kid again." Jason coughed once more before standing up and rubbing his throat, muttering under his breath about green tea.

Roy shook his head, trying to keep himself from chuckling. Lian was clapping her palms against Roy's cheek, repeating the word "Daddy" over and over again. A look of firm determination was set upon the child's face and she patted his cheek one last time before she demanded to be put down.

"Down down! Down down down!"

"Okay, okay! Geez. Here you go princess." The second the girl was on the ground, Lian began squealing. She ran around the safe-house, searching for her hidden toys (a game she and Jason usually played. Jason claims it's to help her with location skills, but Roy's pretty sure Jason just wants an excuse to have **fun** for once).

Roy sighed, running a had through his hair the down his face. Children are exhausting.

From the other room, Roy heard Jason yell at him. "Harper! Your ph- HOLY SHIT!"

Loud crashes sounded from the bedroom and Lian paused in her game to look towards the noise. "Unca Jay?"

Now worried, Roy scooped his daughter into his arms and hurried to the room. Once inside, Roy saw Jason staring at his phone with trembling hands. He was shaking so hard, the phone fell from his grasp. Roy couldn't bring himself to care about the possible damage his phone suffered, more concerned was he with what could possibly make Jason—one of the strongest people Roy knows—shake like a leaf.

"Jay? What's wrong?"

Like he'd just been slapped, Jason scrambled for his own phone and began scrolling through his contacts so fast Wally would be jealous. Finding the desired contact, Jason frantically held the phone to his ear, muttering worried curses under his breath.

"Jason. What's going on, man, you're making me worry over here."

Jason's eyes flicked to Roy and he opened his mouth to reply, but apparently the other person picked up the phone with a confused " _Hello?_ "

"West, get to Dick's apartment. **Yesterday, twinkle toes**." Jason paused a few seconds before exploding into the phone, "BECAUSE DICK'S GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIMSELF! I DON'T GIVE A **SHIT** ABOUT YOUR 'RETIREMENT'. **MY BROTHER IS GOING TO OFF HIMSELF AND THE LONGER I WASTE TIME TALKING TO YOU, THE HIGHER THE CHANCE GETS THAT HE'LL PULL IT OFF!** "

It was like a sucker-punch to the gut. Roy gasped, eyes widening. It…

Dick wouldn't.

…Would he?

No.

No, Dick isn't like that. Dick wouldn't.

He **wouldn't.**

Jason hung up immediately after the outburst and breezed around the room, grabbing motorcycle keys, his civilian helmet, and his jacket. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," Jason kept muttering the curse over and over.

"Harper, Dick texted **you** so grab your fucking keys and haul ass to Blϋdhaven General. I'll meet you there."

And with one more shout for him to hurry the hell up, Jason was gone. The sound of tires screeching against pavement audible almost immediately after.

Roy looked down at Lian. Lian looked back at him and made a face. Roy snapped out of his daze, and before he knew it, Roy was driving as fast as possible towards his best friend's apartment.

 _Fuck, Dickie. Why?_

- _Line Break_ -

Twenty minutes later, Roy was sitting in the waiting room with Lian asleep in his arms, Wally in the seat to his left with his head in his hands, and Jason pacing a trench in the floor in front of him. Everything held a dream-like quality to it and Roy struggled to believe this was **real**. That this was **actually happening.**

 **What. The. Fuck.**

That's all he could manage to think.

 _What the fuck._

No way Dick-fucking- _Grayson_ had tried to kill himself by slitting his wrists and downing an entire bottle of **fucking painkillers.**

This… Can't be real. Roy still hadn't checked the text messages that landed him in Blϋdhaven General in the first place.

Maybe he should do that.

"Jason." The teen looked over. "Hold Lian for a second." Roy wasn't just handing Lian off to Jason because he needed to free up his arms, he was giving Jason Lian because he knew that having the little girl in his arms would calm his second best friend. Children are Jason Todd's soft spot, and always will be.

Once Lian was safely cradled against the "big bad Red Hood"'s chest, Roy pulled out his phone and opened up his messenger app.

 _ **Five unread SMS from: Dick**_

Roy tapped the thread.

 **Dick:** **Hey, R. Been like, what, a few days since we've talked? Heh. Nice that someone other than the Bats care. I guess we've always been like brothers, though, right? I wouldn't know, I guess, but I hope so.**

 **Dick: Anyways. I wanted to know if you could talk to the Team for me..? Y'know, tell them that I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry for lying to them. I'm sorry for not telling them the plan, and I'm sorry... I'm sorry for...**

 **Dick: Existing.**

 **Dick: ... But I'll right one wrong, I guess. Heh. Yeah. Tell them they won't need to worry about seeing me again. And my brothers... Blackbird, Red Robin, and Red Hood... Tell them it wasn't their fault. That there wasn't anything they could do (and there's nothing you can do either, Roy, but it's okay) and it's not their fault (or yours). Its not. I just... Everything's been piling up and...**

 **Dick: I'm tired, Roy.**

 **Dick: It's rude of me to ask this of you without telling you something too right? Well, Roy, there isn't much I can tell you except a huge thank you. Thank you, for being there for me when I needed you most. Thank you, for being like an honorary brother.**

 **Dick: Thank you.**

What the…

Why were his eyes watering? This… No.

No, it was **not** those little _**Young Justice shits**_ who did this to one of the strongest, **best** , people Roy knows.

It **isn't right**.

Red tinting his vision, Roy turned on Wally, who had lifted his head to gaze blankly at the white wall across from him. In the blink of an eye, Roy's fist collided with Wally's cheek with a satisfying **'cra-ack'** and Wally's head snapped to the left.

The speedster opened his mouth to speak, but Roy's left fist collided with his jaw before he could get a word out.

"I do **not** want to hear it, Wallace. You and that **stupid** team were supposed to be **better** ; supposed to **mean something**. Dick was there, wasn't he? He never left you God damn idiots and he _**loved you all! LOOK WHERE IT GOT HIM!**_ "

Roy was ready to hit Wally again, when Jason growled. Literally fucking **growled.** "Enough," he snapped coldly. "I'll deal with this. Later. When I know if **my stupid, clingy, brother will live.** " Jason never once raised his voice, but the underlying threat was easily heard as surely as if Jason had screamed it in their faces. ' _Keep it up and I'll put a bullet in your chest._ ' Lian continued to sleep in her "uncle's" arms, undisturbed by Jason's deadly tone.

Roy scowled at the speedster who hid his face in his hands again and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it slightly.

"I need to call the rest of your brothers," he managed to say before stalking out of the waiting room and the hospital itself.

One outside, Roy allowed himself to cool off for a few and just take in his surroundings.

It really did seem like any regular place; there was a drug store across from the large building that was "Blϋdhaven General Hospital" called 'Daily Mills' with a faded logo of a cow saying something stupid outside. A neon light blinked ' **Open** ' like it was trying out morse code for the first time. People crowded the sidewalks and cars honked on the street. Small fits of road rage that Roy wasn't innocent to.

Taking a deep breath, Roy took out his cell again, finding Tim's contact (Jason gave it to him "In case we get in over our heads") and dialing the number.

On the second ring, Tim's voice answered. " _Hello?_ "

Taking a deep breath Roy spoke in a grave tone.

"Dick's in the hospital."

" _ **What?!**_ "

"He…"

"Roy. What aren't you telling me. Why is Dick in the hospital."

Shit, the kid's voice sounded hysteric now.

"Timothy…

Dick tried to kill himself."


	3. Chapter Three: Descending into Darkness

A/N: I _was_ going to post Dissociation Chapter Two first, but I couldn't help but update this storyline. There won't be much outside interaction. For this chapter, I wanted to focus more on how Tim, Damian and Jason were coping—what their mindsets were and their emotional statuses. Dick comes in at some point but it won't be in Jason and Tim's current time. It'll be a day before he cuts himself. Damian's call will be in the next chapter, and it'll be Wally who tells the kid. I'd say poor Wally, but he really upset me in Season 2, so.

I hope you like the update.

 **Recommended Song:** Slow Life, by Grizzly Bear [I think the overall meaning of the song is "Even though I love you, I can't do this anymore. I know you love me too but it's not enough anymore. I'm sorry."

 **WARNING:** None, again. Unless you cry rather easily. Then this chapter will probably hurt a bit…

* * *

 **Descending into Darkness**

 _Wisdom Of Solomon 4:7—"In contrast, those who have done what is right will be at rest, even if they die an early death."_

* * *

 **Tim**

" _Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow._

 _No tomorrow, no tomorrow."_

— _Mad World, by Gary Jules ft. Michael Andrews_

* * *

" _Timothy… Dick tried to kill himself._ "

The words rang in Tim's head—his ears began ringing shortly after and Tim zoned out.

No way.

No. Way.

 **Please—no way.**

Someone was shaking him, Tim knew that, but he didn't— **couldn't** , respond. He was just… Numb.

Maybe it was actually shock? Tim couldn't think straight.

" _Dick tried to kill himself."_

" _Do… do you know if he's going to… If he's going to make it?"_

" _No, Tim, we don't. I'm sorry."_

All he could manage to think was: Why?

 **Why?**

Why would Dick do it?

Was it something he'd done?

Was it something he'd said?

Was it something he **hadn't** done?

Was it something he **hadn't** said?

If yes, what was it?

If yes, what should he have done?

If yes, what should he have said?

Tim was lost in a daze. Bart and Garfield were in front of him—Tim knew that much—but he couldn't hear them. Tim could see their lips moving, but his training left him to fumble around in the dark.

That's what it feels like. Huh.

Tim feels like he is running down a never-ending hall; like he's in the darkest part of the sea, fighting a losing battle against the current and being drowned. He feel like the air is strangling him, making it hard to breathe.

Tim feels…

Wow, there's no word for how Tim feels.

It's simply… indescribable.

The feeling of…

Huh. Hadn't he just said there's no way to describe it?

Then why's he trying to?

Tim moved his feet and, dimly, he was aware of the fact that he was moving toward the Zeta tubes. Dimly, he was aware of the coordinates he typed into it. Absent-mindedly, he was aware of stepping into the Zeta beam and exiting the phone booth in Gotham.

His body was on autopilot as he made his way to his apartment.

Tim's mind was… Just there. It's like Tim was an observer of his own body, simply watching what it—what **he** was doing, like Conner would watch static.

He didn't register when he changed out of his Red Robin garb, and into civvies. He didn't register hopping on his motorcycle and gunning it for Blϋdhaven.

He didn't register Roy's attempts at consolation when he walked through the double-doors to enter the waiting room on the third floor of the hospital.

Tim simply lifted his eyes to look into Jason's.

The pain he saw in them reflected his own and Tim was hardly aware of the tears that began slipping down his cheeks. All he knew was that the world blurred and he couldn't hold himself together. Not without Dick. Not without his big brother to help hold him together.

All he knew was that a few seconds later, he was encased in strong arms. He was being held together, but the tears continued to flow as he lifted his arms to wrap around whoever was keeping him from breaking apart.

If he'd been paying attention, Tim would have caught the whiff of sweat, leather, and cigarette smoke that blended together perfectly to identify the person as Jason.

* * *

 **Jason**

" _And if the darkness is to keep us apart,_

 _And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off,_

 _And if your glass heart should crack,_

 _And for a second you turn back,_

 _Oh no, be strong"_

— _Walk On, by U2_

* * *

He'd handed off Lian to Roy the minute he'd seen the glaze of Tim's eyes. An urge overcame him and Jason instantly submitted to it. The urge to keep Tim together—to be there and hold him—is what made him bring the Babybird in close against his chest.

Jason ignored the tears wetting his shirt. Jason ignored the arms that desperately clutched at the back of his leather jacket.

And most importantly, Jason ignored his own feelings—his own emotions.

He needed to keep himself together if he was going to do that for Tim.

He had to keep his emotions on a tight leash.

He needed to be strong for his little brothers.

He needed to be strong for his big brother's best friend and ex-best friend.

He needed to be strong for Bruce when he found out.

He needed to be strong for Al—

Jason stumbled over the name mentally. But it was true.

He needed to be strong for Alfred.

He needed to be strong to confront that Team of no-good ground-groveling _**shits.**_

He needed to be strong.

He needs to be strong.

He has to be strong.

If he isn't…

What can he do?

If he isn't…

What will he do?

If he isn't…

What will happen?

Those are questions Jason doesn't want the answers to—not yet, at least.

Later, Jason promised himself, he would allow himself his emotions.

Right now, he had to focus on everyone but himself.

Right now, being a big brother comes first.

* * *

 **Dick**

" _I've got this place,_

 _That I've filled with empty space._

 _Oh, I'm trying not to face what I've done._

 _My hopeless opus."_

— _Hopeless Opus, by Imagine Dragons_

* * *

Have you ever wanted to just break down and cry until you physically can't anymore?

Have you ever wanted to be able to stand there and take life on boldly?

Have you ever wanted a shoulder to cry on?

Have you ever wanted to submit to life?

Have you ever wanted to have someone to confide in—to trust you without limit and care about you even after you're gone?

Have you ever wanted to let your troubles drown you?

Have you ever wanted to just curl into yourself and give up?

Have you ever wanted to scream and pull at your hair because nobody's around anymore and you're alone.

Have you ever wanted to give up period?

Have you ever wanted to just scream?

Have you ever wanted to scream, shout, and bang your fists against something because it just **hurts** and you can't deal with it?

Have you ever felt guilty?

Have you ever felt pain so overwhelming you can't remember what it's like **not** to feel it?

Have you ever felt hollow?

Have you ever felt so numb you don't recognize what's going on—what you're doing as you're doing it?

Have you ever felt hurt so deep it feels like someone is physically tearing you apart into pieces?

Have you ever felt so alone it feels like a black hole deep in you that's consuming you bit by bit?

Have you ever felt so broken you don't even recognize the pieces of yourself you're trying to put together?

You're not alone.

Dick feels like that too.

* * *

 **Damian**

" _Without you, I feel broke,_

 _Like I'm half of a whole._

 _Without you, I've got no hand to hold._

 _Without you, I feel torn."_

— _Sad Song, by We The Kings ft. Elena Coats_

* * *

Grayson wouldn't **dare**.

He wouldn't **dare** leave Damian alone with _**Todd**_ as an eldest brother, and _**Drake**_ as second-eldest.

He **wouldn't leave Damian** _ **alone**_.

Damian crushed the phone in his fist, ignoring the stinging the small shards of glass made in his palms, and threw what remained of it against the wall with a yell.

" _Damian, I… I need to tell you something."_

" _What is it West? Out with it already—I have other matters I must attend to."_

" _Damian. Dick attempted suicide."_

With a scream, Damian grabbed the alarm clock from the nightstand and hurled it at the wall, only slightly satisfied was he when the glass shattered and rained down onto the floor.

Damian's father soon entered the room, likely to inquire as to why he'd been yelling and had thrown the stupid accessory when Damian ducked past him and ran for the Batcave.

Once there, Damian typed the coordinates to Blϋdhaven and ignored his father when he shouted at him. Damian had somewhere he needed to be.

When he'd emerged from the alley he'd Zeta'd to, Damian began making his way to the hospital West had most likely taken Grayson. His anger knew no bounds but, as he walked, it began to ebb away, replacing itself with consuming fear and worry with each agonizing step.

Gra— **Dick** , wouldn't attempt to kill himself… Would he?

If he were pushed emotionally to his breaking point, would Dick rather take his life than turn to his brothers—rather than turn to **Damian**?

What had he done to make Dick feel like he couldn't rely on him?

What had he sai—

Oh.

" _I_ _ **hate**_ _you Grayson!"_

" _How many times have I told you that you are_ _ **not**_ _my brother Grayson!"_

" _Leave me alone Grayson! I do not desire your presence! Nobody wants you!"_

" _You were just a charity case father couldn't help but take in."_

" _You are beneath me, Grayson."_

" _I do not love you Grayson."_

But…

But Damian hadn't meant it.

Any of it.

Had he not made that clear enough?

Had he not shown Dick the falsehood of the words with his actions?

Had he not shown Dick how much he appreciates him—how much he **loves** him?

How can Damian make it right?

How can Damian fix it?

What can Damian **do?**

 **This can't happen.**

Damian just got one father back, only to lose his older brother? Only to lose his father-figure? Only to lose one of the few people he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable around?

…Only to lose one of the only people who'd ever loved him?

This isn't fair!

This _**can't happen!**_

 **Please, this can't happen.**

…it _can't_ …

Damian stared at the double-doors he'd reached at some point or another. When, he didn't know.

Damian didn't notice the wetness of his tears that revealed his regret and pain.

He pushed open the doors and saw Drake, Todd, the Harpers, and West all assembled in the room. The waiting room. The room where someone would— **would** —tell them Dick would make it. Where Damian would be able to tell Drake and Todd that Grayson would live and say "I told you so" when it was confirmed.

But…

All Damian felt like he could do was try and keep himself together, for now. He couldn't reveal any more weakness than he already had in front of the Harpers and West.

Drake wasn't hiding it, though, so why should Damian?

Todd and Drake were seated on a couch; Drake was curled against Todd and sobbing in its earnest into Todd's chest. Todd's face was a blank slate, but when his eyes met Damian's, Damian could see his pain and feel his regret mirrored in Todd's eyes.

Todd nodded towards Damian and wordlessly reached out towards him. An invitation that seemed to say ' _It's okay—come over here. Cry, and I'll keep you safe from the prying eyes. I'll shield you with myself as long as you need me to, and even when you think you don't._ '

It was something Dick would do.

Damian couldn't help himself when his face scrunched up and he bolted into Todd's embrace; the strong arms providing what had been promised when wrapped around him. Damian curled against Todd and felt a trembling arm of Drake's curl around him as well.

In this moment, Damian allowed himself his weakness.

In this moment, Damian allowed himself to be comforted by the brothers Grayson deemed Todd and Drake to be.

In this moment, Damian allowed himself to break.

What was the point in hiding it from others who could see through any façade he put up?

In this moment, the two youngest allowed the second oldest to be the one to hold them together—to keep them from completely breaking into unrecognizable pieces of themselves; to keep them from breaking past the point where they would never be able to recover from.

In this moment, the brothers shared their pain.

In this moment, the brothers came together in a permanent agreement.

In this moment, Damian accepted and recognized Dra—Tim, and To—Jason, as his brothers.

In this moment, the three were all each other had.


	4. Answering Your Reviews

A/N: This isn't a chapter, actually. Don't worry. It's not the notice either. I'm just responding to your reviews :)

 **Abby6666:** Well I added another two chapters... Heh. Sorry I answered this so late!

 **Red-Wayne-Hood:** Dickie will... Actually, not even I know what's going to happen to the Blue Bird of Bludhaven yet. (Remember when your penname was **captianstartrekker**? I do. Heh)

 **805:** Poor Dickie indeed. What can I say? Inspiration slaps me in the face sometimes and I just... go with it.

 **little miss BANANNA HEAD:** Well we don't know if he's dead **yet** so... But I am sorry to hear that you know what it's like to be in a place like that. I have too, but that's not me anymore. I never tried to kill myself, though, and I'm sorry if you did. I can relate to a certain level, but I won't say sorry any more because I don't know what you went through so I don't know what I'm sorry for. I get it too. Don't worry-you're not alone :) If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here for you. I won't judge, and I won't berate you for anything you've done or anything you'll say. It's not my place to. I know what it's like to have regret so intense you can barely deal with it. But just remember the past is behind you. The present is now. I hope I don't sound cheesy or insult you.

 **Orion Hunts:** Hah. Thank you so much! I really appreciate your words of praise and encouragement. I'm honored you like my writing (I don't think much of it, so I really appreciate your reviews!)

 **MollyzEpic:** Thank you too! Like I told the last reviewer, I appreciate your kind words! I'm sorry there's not much I can say-I'm not sure what else I _can_ say except for a huge thank you.

 **A Small Voice:** Yes I'm fine, believe it or not. Really, I am. This is just something I've sadly experienced and dealt with. Nothing more - I'm okay :) Thank you for asking.

I hope this doesn't seem impersonal! I really do appreciate you guys taking the time to Read and Review! Please, keep doing so and I'll answer in the bottom Author's Note at the end of each chapter.

(I did actually update the story. It's the previous chapter, for those of you only getting this alert.)

Everyone, have a great week! :)


	5. Chapter Four: I've Come Home

A/N: Aaaalrighty! So sorry for the wait, but _**school**_. Here's where we see what I decided on for Dick... Holy carp I just realized how sad this is...

Hot damn. Remember that Damian's call is in this chapter, yeah? Just a reminder. Translations are found in the End Author's Note

 **WARNING:** Possible character death. I ain't a-spoilin'

 **Recommended Song:** Welcome Home, by Radical Face

Review, please! ;3

* * *

 **I've Come Home**

 _1 Corinthians 15:26—"Death is the last enemy to be brought to an end"_

* * *

Dying.

People make it seem so scary; so sad. But, when you're the one dying—when you're the one slipping away—it's... Painful, sure, there's no denying that (depending on how you're dying) but death sort of... numbs, you. It's like there's this **pain** —this constant thorn in you **everywhere** —which refuses to leave then... then you're just... It fades away. The agony became a dull ache. That... That's how he'd put it.

 _ **Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun**_

 _ **And the days blur into one.**_

How long had it been?

Everything's dark; Dick can't see. He feels like he's wandering around aimlessly.

"Hello?" His voice sounds weird, like he's in a cavern and it echoes all around him. Dick continues to walk—his feet shuffling audibly against the smooth ground. But why's it so dark? Dick can barely see two steps in front of him.

The air is... not cold, but not hot either. It's comfortable, but not warm. Dick can feel his body but can't at the same time.

Then he hears it. A laugh. Not a Joker type of laugh...

One he thought he'd never hear again.

 _ **And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done.**_

The sound had been _behind_ him, but Dick was _positive_ he'd have noticed if... if _they_ were here. Dick's head snapped to look over his shoulder—his body jerked with the movement to make sure he didn't snap his neck.

Then he _sees_ it.

It's... It's a house.

 _ **Sheets are swaying, from an old clothesline**_

 _ **Like a row of captured ghosts, over old dead grass,**_

 _ **Was never much but we made the most**_

Dick's eyes began to water at the sight to greet him.

One of those simple homes Dick remembered Haly's train driving by though the country parts of America. It had only one floor, but was rather large with three other visible parts attached to the house. The walls were painted a soft, light green and the roof was a pale blue (it reminded Dick of Tim's eyes). The house was alone, with green grass and trees surrounding it in a beautiful display. Clothes hung from a clothesline and swayed with the breeze. Behind the house, the sun seemed to be rising—dawn, Dick assumed.

That was all nice and beautiful, but that wasn't what was bringing tears to Dick's eyes.

" _Mamă_ _?_ "

 _ **Welcome home.**_

His mom—his **mom** —turned from tending to a garden beside the house to look at her son. When her eyes landed on Dick, Mary's smile widened and the skin of her cheeks wrinkled with the movement. Behind her, John—his **dad** —stepped out from the house.

" _Tata?_ "

"Micul meu prihor." Mary stepped towards her son with John not far behind her. Dick tripped over his feet in his rush to meet his parents.

"Mamă... Mi-e dor de tine. Mă doare fără tine și tată." Dick couldn't stop the words from tumbling past his lips and he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop them.

 _ **Ships are launching, from my chest.**_

 _ **Some have names but most do not.**_

When they reached each other, Dick melted into his mother's embrace, wrapping his own arms around her in return. "Știu, fiul meu. Stiu. Și noi ne-am pierdut, pasăre mică," she murmured. Dick began crying in her embrace and Mary continued to hold him as she stroked his long dark hair. He was taller than she, now, and it made something twist in Dick's chest.

 _ **If you find one please, let me know which piece I've lost.**_

"Fiul meu. Cât de mare ai crescut." John placed a hand on one of the boy's trembling shoulders. "Ne-ai făcut atât de mândră, băiete. Deci, mândră."

Dick began sobbing into his mother's arms as John enveloped both of them in his arms. " _Mi-a fost foarte dor de tine. Mi-a fost foarte dor de tine_."

"Știm puțin. Noi stim. Dar, fiul meu, depinde de tine. Trebuie să alegi să te întorci la ei sau să stai cu noi," Mary whispered to her son.

John released his wife and son, wiping a tear off of Dick's cheek when he lifted his head. "Haide, fiule."

Dick sniffed, wiping away the other tears that had cascaded down his face. "Unde mergem?"

John gave no reply as Mary followed her husband. Dick slowly made his way after them, still shell-shocked at seeing his parents. The parents he thought he'd never see again.

Arriving at a small lake hidden between several trees, John and Mary looked up at their son, gesturing down at the lake.

Sliding his eyes into the still waters, Dick sucked in a breath at what he saw.

It was his brothers, Roy, Lian, and Wally. All of them were assembled in a waiting room… Wait he'd been taken to a hospital? All were in the blank, pale green colored room, nonetheless. All were sorrowful.

Dick felt something twist in his chest more when he realized that Damian and Tim were crying in Jason's arms. Jason was keeping a blank face—trying to be strong for the other two—but Dick could see his Little Wing's pain.

"Fiul meu."

Dick looked up at his parents. Mary was encased in John's arms, with one of her own wrapped around her husband's back. "Chiar vrei să-i lași?"

"Înțelegem, Richard, că sunt a doua familie. Poți să te întorci la ele, dar trebuie să alegi în curând, băiete," John assured. "Le iubești și le iubim pentru că te îngrijeau când nu puteam. Sunt familii."

Dick looked back into the lake waters. Yes, it did break his heart to see his brother's like that. It hurt to see them hurting and all Dick wanted to do at this moment was hug them and tell them it's okay; that he's there no matter what… But he can't. Dick can't go back—he won't. There's too much pain back there. Too many people who hate him—who make him feel lower than dirt.

"Nu mă pot întoarce," he whispered. "Dar poate... Pot să-i ajut? Este posibil?"

Mary and John both smiled warmly. It was Mary who answered her son. "Desigur ca este. Am făcut-o de multe ori pentru tine. Tot ce trebuie să faceți este să ajungeți în apă și să șoptiți cuvintele voastre. Ei nu vor auzi, dar vor simți."

Dick kneeled beside the water, doing as instructed. He reached down into the lake, towards his brothers, and whispered, "It's okay. I'll never leave you guys. I'm always with you. Always."

 _ **Peel the scars from, off my back.**_

 _ **I don't need them anymore.**_

 _ **You can throw them out, or keep them in your Mason jars.**_

 _ **I've come home.**_

When he was done, Dick looked back up to his parents. His mom walked over to him and kissed her son's forehead. "Bine ai venit acasă, fiule. Ne-ai lipsit."

 _ **All my nightmares escaped my head.**_

 _ **Bar the door, please don't let them in.**_

 _ **You were never supposed to leave,**_

 _ **Now my head's splitting down the seams.**_

 _ **And I don't know if I can.**_

 _ **Here, beneath my lungs, I feel your thunbs press into my skin.**_

* * *

Damian

( **Recommended Song:** Stay, by Hurts)

" _Home for me is where you are_

 _These four walls are nothing without you_."

* * *

Damian grunted, dropping down from the pull-up bars.

 _Fifty-two. I could have done better._ Walking to the benches, Damian swiped a cloth and dragged it down his face to clean the sweat off from his brow. When he sat down at the bench, Damian grasped his water bottle and took a long swig from it.

Hitting the showers, Damian made his way out of the Batcave after.

Entering the kitchen, Damian spotted the butler he had come to respect. Putting the bottled water in the freezer, Damian turned to the old man. "Pennyworth, I am going to my room, if father asks for me."

Pennyworth nodded once. "Very well, Master Damian. Supper is almost done, so I recommend against much else than a light snack."

Damian nodded and grabbed an apple as he exited the room. Titus appeared by his side as he made his way up the stairs to his room, and Damian gave the dog a soft smile. "We'll go for a walk after I rest, okay Titus?"

The dog woofed in response and followed his primary human.

Walking into the room, Damian noticed his phone buzzing on his desk. Titus hopped up on Damian's bed as the boy made his way to the device.

Looking at the screen, Damian tutted at the name displayed.

 **Incoming Call from: Wallace West**

Damian answered the call. If he didn't answer, Damian knew the speedster would continue to spam his phone until his call was answered.

"What do you want West?"

He heard muffled curses and what sounded like Harper's voice. " _Shit, kid. Wasn't expecting you to answer._ "

" _Tt_. If you did not want to speak to me, why bother calling? For a speedster, Wallace, you are astoundingly slow."

More curses. "Wallace, if this is a _joke_ , do me a favor and hang up so that I can tell Grayson the truth when I say it was not me who ended the call to spare my brain cells."

Damian sat in his chair, pulling out a pencil and his sketch pad. Flipping to one of his newer designs, Damian resumed his work.

" _I wish this was a joke, Damian, believe me. It… It's about Dick…_ "

"And…?"

" _Damian, I… I need to tell you something…_ "

" _What_ is it West? Out with it already—I have other matters I must attend to."

" _Damian. Dick attempted suicide._ "

* * *

A/N: **Translations:** (I used Google translate so forgive me if it's wrong or something... I blame Google!) O-O"

Mamă—Mom

Tata—Dad

Micul meu prihor—My little robin

Mamă... Mi-e dor de tine. Mă doare fără tine și tată—Mom... I miss you. It hurts without you and dad

Știu, fiul meu. Stiu. Și noi ne-am pierdut, pasăre mică—I know, my son. I know. And we've missed you too, little bird

Fiul meu. Cât de mare ai crescut.—My son. How big you've grown

Ne-ai făcut atât de mândră, băiete. Deci, mândră You've made us so proud, my boy. So, so proud

Mi-a fost foarte dor de tine. Mi-a fost foarte dor de tine—I've missed you so much. I've missed you so much

Știm puțin. Noi stim. Dar, fiul meu, depinde de tine. Trebuie să alegi să te întorci la ei sau să stai cu noi-We know, little bird. We know. But, my son, it depends on you. You have to choose to go back to them or stay with us

Haide, fiule—Come, my son

Unde mergem—Where are we going

Fiul meu—My son

Chiar vrei să-i lași—Do you really want to let them go

Înțelegem, Richard, că sunt a doua familie. Poți să te întorci la ele, dar trebuie să alegi în curând, băiete—We understand, Richard, they are your second family. You can go back to them, but you have to pick soon, my boy

Le iubești, și le iubim, pentru că te îngrijeau când nu puteam. Sunt familii—You love them, and we love them, because they cared for you when we could not. They are family

Nu mă pot întoarce—I can't go back

Dar poate... Pot să-i ajut? Este posibil?—Can I… Can I comfort them? Is it possible?

Desigur ca este. Am făcut-o de multe ori pentru tine. Tot ce trebuie să faceți este să ajungeți în apă și să șoptiți cuvintele voastre. Ei nu vor auzi, dar vor simți—Of course it is. I did it many times for you. All you have to do is get into the water and whisper your words. They will not hear, but will feel.

Bine ai venit acasă, fiule. Ne-ai lipsit—Welcome home, son. We've missed you.

 **Reviews:**

 **805:** Sorry, but Bruce won't come in until they find out about Dickie and after Jason does something. Read to see! ;)

 **Ashuri:** Thank you so much for the kind words! The boys are… yeah they're not doing too good, huh? But nobody would, if we're being honest. I don'tkniw what this chapter did to your heart but… I hope it didn't completely shatter!

 **JarOfIdeas:** That sucks to experience, and even more so for the family. Chapter Three was written to focus on the characters themselves—the ones closest to Dick. I'llbe doing Wally and Roy soon, so don't worry about that if you are ;) And… you'llsee what I've got in store, hm?


	6. Chapter Five: What You've Done (Part One

A/N: Just to be clear, **I do NOT think suicide is the answer to anything and do NOT encourage anyone to take their lives. This story is not only meant to do Dick justice. It has a purpose too.** This chapter is after the boys get news of Dick's passing in the waiting room. The next chapter will be when they hear it. The following chapter is where we see Bruce and Alfie (oh man, Al…). (EDIT: I had to cut this chapter in half because it was just way too long… So… Enjoy my shitty fight scenes!)

The Team, in this story, consists of Impulse, Beast Boy, La'gaan, Miss Martian, Superboy, Wally (unofficially), Artemis (unofficially), Blue Beetle, Wonder Girl, and Zatanna. And since Bart is a precious little speedster, he wasn't around when everybody shut Dickie out. Okay? Okay.

(EDIT: I'm posting this from my phone, but soon I'll upload it from my computer, so the words "Line Break" will be replaced)

 **Recommended Song:** Wolves, by Sam Tinnesz ft. Silverberg [My story is using it to reference the brothers]

 **WARNING:** None. The Team gets what they deserve.

Please Review!

* * *

 **What You've Done** **(** Part One **)**

 _Proverbs 14:13—"The heart feels pain even in laughter, and in the end, joy turns to sorrow."_

* * *

NO PERSPECTIVE

Three brothers—all sharing their grief—run and leap across rooftops, taking the long way to one of the furthest Zeta Tubes in Gotham. They flip and twist in the air when they leap for two reasons. One, is to burn off some steam (and pain). Two, is to remember a certain blue clad hero, beloved brother, son, grandson, best friend, and wonderfully skilled acrobat. All brothers wear blue somewhere on their uniforms. Red Hood sports a dark navy-blue jacket gifted to him by the Blue Knight of Blϋdhaven while he was still alive, a matching dark navy blue domino, and the normally red emblazoned Bat on his chest has been swapped out for the same dark navy blue. Red Robin (known by the Young Justice as Robin) has changed the belts on his uniform from gold to a cool blue, and the normally golden silhouette on his chest has also swapped colors. Robin (known by the Young Justice as Blackbird) wears a deep, cobalt blue domino mask, temporarily swapped the red in the uniform for the same dark blue color, and the golden R on his chest has become sapphire blue.

The trip to the Zeta Tube was a silent one. Red Hood was deep in thought, as was Red Robin, and Robin was simply too upset to speak.

Yet, the three couldn't help but think that if Nightwing were there, he'd be chattering away to fill the silence. Nightwing never could stand silence, always cracking a joke or terrible pun to give reason for conversation.

Nightwing was the light in the renowned Bat-Clan.

Dropping into the alley with the telephone booth in the far part of the Eastern End, the brothers stared at the teleportation device for a few minutes. Red Robin was the first to step into the booth with Red Hood on his heels. Robin hesitated a few seconds before following suit. With all three in the Zeta Tube, a bright yellow and gold light flashed, and they were gone.

The Bat's boys are out for blood.

* * *

 ** _Won't see us comin'_**

 ** _Out_** ** _the door before you even blink._**

The computer didn't announce the arrival of the Bats, per Red Robin's hacking capabilities, so the three made their way to the center of the ring in the room. Red Hood faced the stairs that lead to the living spaces, Red Robin gazed at his brother's back, and Robin glared at the waves of water that lapped at the ground.

Turning to his brothers, Red Hood gave his orders. Whether or not his little brothers would listen was not a concern of his—they had every reason to obey. "Beast Boy, Superboy, Wonder Girl, and the Beetle are mine. Red Robin, you have La'gaan and Zatanna. Robin has the Martian and Impulse. Do not engage them in a group—take them out one by one as quietly as manageable, and as quickly as possible. Bring them back here when you're done."

Robin scowled. "Why do you get four opponents, but Red Robin and I only get two, Hood? And do not mistake my curiosity for jealousy."

Red Hood rolled his eyes beneath the domino. "Garfield is Red Robin's friend, which would make it difficult for him to take down the kid. You can't take on Beast Boy because I can't be sure you'll leave him in one piece. Superboy is a challenge that I'd feel more comfortable taking on, and Wonder Girl shares the reason—likewise with Jaime. The Blue Beetle has yet to fully grasp the limitations of his powers, and the Scarab is liable to take over at any point once engaged in combat. Wonder Girl is new to her abilities too, and also has issues controlling them. Superboy is quick to anger and when he's upset, the fight gets that much more dangerous." Red Hood's lips turned down at the corners. "I shouldn't need to explain myself to you, Robin. Not right now. This shit can wait for later."

Robin's shoulders slumped as he nodded, and Red Robin placed a comforting hand on the younger's shoulder. Surprisingly, the hand was left alone.

Minutes later, with their targets assigned, the boys melted into the shadows.

The hunt had begun.

* * *

 ** _Somethin' so cold_** ** _blooded_**

 ** _With_** ** _a deep killer instinct._**

Tim made his way through the vents of Mount Justice easily, having often played hide-and-seek with Dick back in his earlier years as Robin plenty of times in the very same vents. To think of his oldest brother…

 _No_.

Tim shook his head.

He can't get distracted right now if he wants Jason's plan to run smoothly (not that Jason had said he'd had a plan, but with specific orders like those, well… Jason had better have a plan).

Pausing, Tim peered through the filters in the vents. La'gaan was in the kitchen with M'gann, eating cookies that were far too black to be edible.

Tim snorted. When people think they're in love, they can get so irrational sometimes.

 ** _Don't look us right in the face_**

 ** _It's like starin' at a burnin' sun_**

M'gann was Damian's charge, so Tim can't say he was surprised when he saw a shadow move not far from where M'gann stood facing the stove.

Pushing the vent forward soundlessly, Tim dropped down to the ground with barely so much as a small **'thump'**. It was hardly audible but, Tim knew that Damian would forever hold the sound against him, the Demon is so insufferable. The Team had a false sense of security around Tim, and he planned on using that to his advantage as he walked out of the shadows.

M'gann was the first to spot the bird. "Robin!" she called. Her lips were lifted in a smile and Tim felt something dark twist in his chest.

How dare she smile when his brother had just died not even three hours ago. How **dare** she.

 ** _Got teeth like razor blades_**

Tim didn't say anything but did stop in his advance. M'gann's smile slowly faded and La'gaan shot Tim a dark look for dampening his "angelfish's" mood.

"Robin?"

Tim snapped. His lips twisted into a snarl and he threw a smoke pellet between the Martian and Atlantean. Silently, Tim watched as Damian leapt into the smoke and onto M'gann's back. Tim was in no rush as he made his way over to where La'gaan stumbled out of the swirling cloud. Bo-staff in hand, Tim pressed a small button on the shaft. Both ends of the weapon crackled to life, humming with the flow of energy.

La'gaan looked up at Tim and growled. "Neptune's Beard; you bastard! That was uncalled for!"

Again, Tim didn't reply as he surged forwards, slamming an end of the bo-staff against the left side of La'gaan's torso. Before the Atlantean could shout, Tim followed up the initial attack with a kick aimed at his head. The kick connected, causing La'gaan to drop to the ground with a 'thud'.

 ** _And you know that we're out for blood_**

 ** _We're out for blood!_**

Tim heard other sounds of struggle, but never anything more than a muffled cry—how Damian muted M'gann's voice so much was a mystery to Tim—and the scuffling of feet. La'gaan was on the ground, dazed by the force behind the kick as he blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness of the world and stars dancing in his vision. Tim stood above La'gaan, looking down at his stunned form with resentment rolling off him in waves.

Scowling, Tim struck the bo-staff across the overgrown fish's skull hard enough to knock out the meta.

La'gaan was supposed to have been a challenge.

Looking up, Tim was unsurprised to see M'gann incapacitated in a small ring of low-burning fire. Damian stood gazing down at her prone form as Tim flicked out the computer in his gauntlet and disabled the smoke detectors throughout the Mountain.

" _Tt_. This was no challenge."

Without looking up, Tim replied. "It wasn't."

Damian's frown twisted into a small scowl nearly matching Tim's. "Todd claimed to take on the more difficult of this pathetic team to keep us out of harm."

"He did." Tim closed the small computer and crouched beside La'gaan's body as he took out the binds to secure Atlantean's limbs together. "Do you really doubt him right now?"

" _Tt._ Todd was once a criminal—he still commits murderer and controls the drug trade—I would not put it beneath him to lie."

Tim glanced up at Damian and saw the ten-year-old had crossed his arms over his chest. Standing up again, Tim slung La'gaan over a shoulder (not as easily as Jason would've, but he managed). "We're criminals too, Damian. The law isn't on the side of breaking-and-entering—which is something we do almost nightly." Sighing, Tim turned to put La'gaan down on a much darker portion of the room. "Just… He's affected by this too, Damian. If there's another reason, he'll tell us."

Damian tutted softly; dejectedly. "He does not show he is affected by it."

Slapping a strip of duct tape over La'gaan's mouth, Tim left him in the furthest corner of the kitchen. "But it still hurts him the same." Tim sighed as he made his way towards the hall that lead to the living room.

"Everyone has their coping methods, Damian."

* * *

 ** _(Oh-ooh)_**

 ** _Better_** ** _run, better run!_**

Jason's fist slammed into Jaime's chest, sending the teen flying into a wall. Wonder Girl cried out in rage and leapt for Jason with a fist shooting forward. Jason ducked the blow, grabbing her wrist and twisting the arm behind her back. His other arm snaked across her neck and he tensed his muscles, cutting off her airflow.

 ** _(Oh-ooh)_**

 ** _'Cause here it comes, here it comes!_**

Cassie choked and gasped, squirming in his grip but Jason merely tightened his awkward—yet secure—hold. Blue Beetle stumbled to his feet at the sight, rushing at Jason with a furious shout. Waiting for Jaime to get close enough, Jason twisted and launched Wonder Girl's body at the beetle. Not expecting the move, Blue Beetle and Wonder Girl collided and crashed into the wall.

 ** _(Oh-ooh)_**

 ** _Better_** ** _run, better run_**

 ** _When_** ** _the Wolves come out to play!_**

Jason snorted. That quick spar had lasted six minutes—longer than Jason would have liked, but long enough for him to let off some steam.

Dick dying…

No.

Not right now.

 ** _Full_** ** _moon is risin'_**

 ** _Oh_** ** _the hunger's burnin' like a flame._**

Jason ignored the pain from the long gash along his back as he made his way to the unconscious teenagers. Tying them back-to-back and securing the magnetic manacles on their wrists, forearms, and ankles, Jason dragged their forms to the far corner of the grotto.

Straightening, Jason's eyes landed on his holographic image. He snorted.

 _Dickie should have one of those, not me. I don't deserve that._

Turning, Jason walked back out of the cave-like room and headed for where the Superboy most likely was.

 ** _No use in hidin'_**

 ** _Oh_** ** _, you're never gonna find escape_**

Conner was exactly where Jason thought he'd be since he wasn't watching static. Outside with, surprisingly, Garfield. Jason hadn't seen the clone's pet mutant yet, and he didn't care to. The wolf would have just complicated things and Jason didn't need any complications.

"Kent. Beast Boy." They were outside so Jason saw no point in trying to maintain a silent attack. He highly doubted that anyone else would even be able to come to the aid of these two either way—Tim and Damian would have made sure of that by now.

Garfield tensed and crouched into a ready position, baring his teeth. Conner simply glanced over his shoulder at the new arrival, looking him up and down. "Who're you supposed to be?"

 ** _Don't look us right in the face_**

"Nobody."

 ** _It's like starin' at a burnin' sun._**

The answer was the only warning the duo received before Jason flung three Batarangs at Beast Boy and tossed a smoke pellet on the ground.

Garfield yelped in surprise and switched forms in favor of a peregrine falcon's and soaring out of the smoke cloud. Superboy covered his mouth and nose with an arm and growled.

 ** _Got_** ** _teeth like razor blades_**

Jason was creeping up beside Superboy with a shard of Kryptonite in a gloved hand when Beast Boy screeched and dove for him. Glancing up at the rocketing bird, Jason muttered a curse under his breath and dropped into a crouch for the bird's talons to barely graze his hair. Just before Garfield could fly out of his reach, Jason pushed off the ground, snatching the bird out of the air by a leg. Superboy whirled for the sound Jason's landing made and he rushed for the silhouette.

Jason knew he was running out of time as his cover slowly began to dissipate, so he quickly injected Garfield's writhing body—did he forget he could switch forms?—with a strong sedative, lowering the kid to the ground as he reverted back to his human-ish physique.

He wasn't fast enough to avoid the punch he received to the ribs, and Jason just _knew_ that two or three were cracked—if not completely broken—when he heard the **'cru-unch crack'** they made.

 ** _And you know that we're out for blood_**

 ** _We're out for blood!_**

Gritting his teeth and suppressing a yell, Jason waited for Superboy to move for another his before he stabbed the Kryptonian with the shard of Kryptonite straight in the center of his chest. Conner was unable to retain the strangled shout he made as he stumbled backwards, curling in on himself.

Knowing Conner is only half-Kryptonian, Jason kicked Superboy across the face to knock him out completely.

Once he was out, Jason clutched tightly at his furious ribs and considered injecting himself with morphine for the pain. _Yeah, no, thanks._

"Fuck this shit," he hissed at the air, crouching beside Superboy's unconscious body and securing the necessary limbs together as best to his abilities. Moving on to Beast Boy, Jason slung the kid over one shoulder before grabbing the back of Conner's collar and dragging him back into the mountain.

 ** _(Oh-ooh!)_**

 ** _Better_** ** _run, better run!_**

 ** _(Oh-ooh!)_**

 ** _'Cause here it comes, here it comes!_**

 ** _(Oh-ooh!)_**

 ** _Better_** ** _run, better run!_**

 ** _When_** ** _the wolves come out to play!_**

* * *

Damian watched the speedster walk into the living room with a bag of chips—closer inspection identified them as "chicken whizzies" (whatever those are)—in hand as he sauntered to the couch and took a seat.

Grinding his teeth together—because how **dare** the speedster act like its just another day when Damian's oldest brother _**died**_ —Damian forced himself to calm down as he dropped to the ground. Bart was ignorant to Damian's presence, and Damian made sure to keep it that way as he slunk behind the couch.

Sliding a sedative into his palm, Damian raised the needle slightly before executing a front-flip and stabbing the needle into Impulse's neck in one graceful motion.

Caught off-guard, Bart yelped at the sting of the needle and breezed off of the couch, only to stumble a couple of steps in and land on his face with a groan of pain.

Damian scowled. Yet again, this had been too easy a take-down.

" _Tt_. Pitiful."

* * *

Standing above Zatanna's prone figure, Tim slung one of her arms over his shoulders and wrapped one of his own around her waist to keep her upright as he walked.

Now that he had no other opponents to take down, Tim couldn't keep his mind off his deceased brother; off his deceased friend; off the light that had been snuffed out.

 _No… He can't be dead! He can't! It has to be another lie—Bruce has to be sending Dick undercover again. Yeah… Yeah that's what's going on._

Tim's tears were contradictory to his thoughts as they spilled from his eyes and slipped past the domino to drip down his face.

 _Dick can't be dead._

 _He… He can't be._

He knew that was the whole reason he and his brothers had come to Mount Justice—to confront this team of "heroes" for their actions—but Tim found he was trying to convince himself that they were here only to scold the Team for being assholes, not to scream at them about the death of their brother; about the extermination of their light.

 _It's not true…_

 _It's not._

* * *

A/N: Next few chapters should be up soon (I hope) since I realized I'd have to break up the chapter waay too late... Yay(?)

 **Reviews:** Wow there's a lot of 'em! Yaaay! Thanks guys! :D

 **d** **eathvalley101:** Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the update and I hope this one didn't let you down :)

 **contagiouslovexoxo:** I'm glad you like my writing, though I am sincerely sorry to hear you were once in that state of mind.

 **Ravendcloud:** I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying my story! Again, I'm so sorry to hear that you know what it's like to be where Dickie was, because I've been there myself and I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy. Jason's... He's hanging in there (...for now...), and Roy was just so upset.. Wally deserved it. He really did for the way he treated Dick. Damian's... not doing good. At all. And Tim's in definite denial. He's definitely not doing good at _all_. I hope you liked this update, late as it was!

 **805:** Glad to hear you'll wait! Believe me, I was surprised I had to break this chapter up into three parts too, and I'm the one writing it!

 **contagiouslovexoxo:** I... Those questions were ones I'd written down on a particularly bad day. I answered yes to those and more I had for myself... I'm so sorry you answered yes to them. I wouldn't wish those feelings and emotions on my most volatile enemy. I hope things are going better.

 **Ashuri:** I'm glad to hear you liked that bit. My eyes were watering as I wrote it, so... Heh. That was emotional... Don't worry about our Bat boys grilling the Team. Next chapter, I promise ;)

 **1quintisfan:** I'm not sure if it's a good thing it not but I'll take it as a compliment? Lol, but I am flattered that I had you tearing up-I didn't think I was _that_ good, so thanks for telling me! I'm happy to hear you like my little story, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy it as we progress :)

 **KK:** It wasn't hard to read at all; I'm glad you pointed that out. I'll say I never, in any way, meant that suggestion offensively. I merely recommended it because I had recently learned the saying, and had never heard of it before. I was trying to be helpful, though I can see how it would come off as rude. I'm sorry to hear that you had a long day, but I hope the week hasn't been too bad lately.

 **KK:** Thanks for the compliments :) I'm glad you can still enjoy the story despite my unintentional rudeness, and I hope you like the update.

 **Guest:** Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm thrilled you like my story and here's hoping you enjoy the update :) The Bible verses I decided on with personal reasoning, and I'm glad you like them :D

Thanks for all the reviews guys! See you next chapter!


	7. Chapter Six: What You've Done (Part Two)

A/N: And I said I'd get this out soon after the last one.

Dang, guys, I'm sorry. I just needed to stick to the update schedule I made up. For those of you who care, it's:

"We Do What We Must", "Dissociation", then "I Can Break Too".

This chapter has confrontations and broken hearts, so…

(I don't think I did very good. Tell me what you think? This one was harder to write for some reason…)

Also! I don't think I made this clear enough, but Dick's dead. He didn't make it, and sorry, but this isn't going to be one of those miracle resurrections. He's gone, for good.

Up next after this: An injured Jason, and Bruce's reaction. Stay tuned! ;)

Er... Review, please!

 **Recommended Song:** Everybody Knows, by Sigrid

 **WARNINGS:** None, aside from some pretty strong language. (*cough* Jason *cough cough*)

* * *

 **What You've Done (** Part Two **)**

 _Romans 6:21—"What consequences_ _did you get from doing things that you are now ashamed of? The outcome of those things is death."_

* * *

NO PERSPECTIVE

The Bat's Boys stood side-by-side as they faced the group of teenagers. The order (from right to left) was Red Robin, Red Hood, then Robin. The Team was tied together with links designed to hold Superman in the center of the room where the Bats had arrived.

As the group of "heroes" began rousing, they took notice of their attackers standing before them with crossed arms.

The first to speak was M'gann.

"Robin? Why?"

Red Robin twitched at the name but didn't respond. It had been pre-established that Red Hood would be the first one to speak. Then came Red Robin, then—if he was feeling up to it—Robin.

"Don't talk to them," Hood deadpanned. "I'm the one you need to concern yourself with right now."

"What? Why? Wait…" Impulse's eyes narrowed at the Bat in the center. Realizing who it was, he gasped. "AREYOUTHEREDHOOD?YOU'RETHEREDHOODTHAT'SSOCRASHAMIDREAMINGI'MDREAMINGRIGHTTHISCAN'TBEREALHOLYSHITI*—"

Blue Beetle cut his best friend off with an annoyed snap of, "Dude! Totally not the time for this! They just tied us up and handed us our asses on a silver platter!" Turning to face the pre-mentioned Bats he asked, "What do you want?"

Red Hood barked out a harsh laugh. "What do we want? That's the question, Jaime. One that doesn't have an easy question."

La'gann was dumb enough to open his cocky-ass mouth next. "Did Nightwing," the name was spat like poison, "put you up to this?! Neptune's Beard! We should have known!" The Atlantean failed to notice the way Red Hood's hand twitched towards his gun, how Red Robin's hands tightened on the bo-staff, and how Robin's hand inched for his hidden blade.

"Impulse shouldn't be with them," Red Robin gritted out in a whisper. "He wasn't around."

Red Hood took a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaling slowly afterwards. "Robin, take care of Bart's bonds."

Without argument, the youngest of the Bat-Clan drew his katana and, in one swift motion, broke through the speedster's bonds.

Bart rubbed his wrists and looked from his bound teammates, to the tensed up Bats. "I feel like I've missed something major…"

"You bastards never answered my question!" La'gaan exploded. He seemed determined not to be ignored, and that could be his downfall.

Red Hood rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to relieve some of the collected tension. "Nothing you need to worry about, Impulse," he answered Bart instead. "This is between _**us**_ ," Red Hood gestured to himself and his brothers, "and _**those**_ puto culos."

Bart's brow crinkled in confusion. "What? Why? What happened? And, hey, where's Nightwing—you guys are here and usually when you're here he's here too—ohnodisomethinghappentohim?Ishehurt?WhencanIseehim?"

La'gaan fumed where he sat. "Is that coward too much of a _wuss_ to show his lying face here again?!"

A blade found a new home deep in La'gaan's kneecap, drawing an agonized and surprised scream from the Atlantean. The blade's hilt was initialed with the letters JT inscribed into it.

"Callate tu _pinche_ puto boca, hijo de puta _mierda_. You don't know what you're _fuckig talking about,_ " Hood snapped harshly. His glare became as powerful as the infamous Batglare as it bore into each of the bound members of the Team. " _None_ of you know what you've done, and now I'm wondering if you'd even _care_."

Red Robin's jaw muscled flexed. He knew what was about to come.

Red Hood's voice lowered dangerously into a monotone voice that sounded so _empty_ , and _hollow_ , that goosebumps raised along each of the members of the Young Justice Team's skin. "Would you like to know?"

Garfield was the one who spoke up in a shaky voice. "What did we do?"

Red Robin stepped forward beside Red Hood. Robin slunk back behind Red Hood, hanging in his shadow. "Right now, someone in Blϋdhaven just got mugged. Someone else just died. Someone else won't have a husband coming home. Another person won't see their daughter ever again. Yet another person is being raped."

"Someone," Robin croaked out, "shouldn't expect to see their mother alive, ever again. They should hope their last conversation was a pleasant one."

The Team sat—or in Bart's case, stood—in stunned silence. They all knew Blϋdhaven is Nightwing's city—why he wouldn't be preventing at least _half_ of those things is beyond them.

When Zatanna opened her mouth to ask _why_ he was letting this happen, Red Hood spoke over her.

"They're all wondering one thing: Where's Nightwing? Maybe some are thinking: Nightwin'll stop this—he'll save me. But one thing they don't know is that Nightwing _won't_ be showing up. He won't save them. He won't protect them.

"He can't. Not anymore."

M'gann's eyes were watering as she asked the question on all their—save the Bats—minds. " _Why?_ "

Red Hood shrugged as Red Robin and Robin shrunk back visibly. Those two knew the answer, and they hated it; despised it, with a passion.

"'Cause s'kinda hard to do that from the grave."

The Team… were at a loss for words. Bart's eyes—like his teammates' eyes— widened. He stumbled back a few steps until he was sliding down the wall beside the Zeta Tubes. He kept repeating one word over and over in a low whisper. "No… No, n-n-no, nonononononono." His hands went to his head before they dragged down to his face. Drawing his knees to his chest, Bart hid his face in his legs as he tried to keep it together.

Zatanna, Conner, M'gann, and Garfield could only stare at the Bats dumbly. La'gaan was hunched into himself, as much as the bonds would allow, over his knee, but he lifted his head to stare at the Bats with wide eyes as well.

Red Hood snorted. So the fish hadn't been expecting _that_ for an answer, had he?

Zatanna was the one to ask the moronic question. "H-he's… He's _dead?_ "

Robin stepped forward with a furious snarl. " _No, Red Hood was just making another morbid joke._ _ **Yes, Nightwing is in the ground.**_ "

Red Hood wrapped an arm around Robin. "Stand down," he murmured. "Not the time. Dick wouldn't want you to hurt them."

"But you _did_ ," Robin whispered back harshly.

"Because I never gave a shit about Dickie-bird's requests, Demon. I know you _do_."

Robin sagged into Red Hood's hold and the eldest of the Bats nodded at Red Robin, who's face had gone from pained, to an unreadable slate.

Red Robin spoke in the same empty monotone Red Hood had. "You guys sent him there. He's pushing up daises because of _you._ That family expecting their dad to get home from work safe and alive? They'll probably find his body in some random alley. That girl's parents who are expecting her home in a few hours? They shouldn't wait up for her to go to bed. Why?

"Because of _you._

"Words, believe it or not, can break someone."

Red Robin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his words sunk in. "You don't even know all the responsibilities he was dealing with," he muttered. Louder, Red Robin spoke and dropped his hand. "Gotham was thrust into chaos when Batman disappeared. We were all being run ragged without _a_ Batman, so who do you think stepped up? Nightwing. He was Batman, Nightwing, an officer in the BPD, leader of _this_ 'Team', and our brother all at the same time. You guys can't even _imagine_ the kind of stuff he had to go through.

"And you guys judged his decisions. You hated him for the choices he was _forced_ to make. The choices he made for _the benefit of the Team_." Red Robin shook his head and waved to Red Hood. Turning, he faced the Zeta Tubes with his head in his hands, and his shoulders trembling with his suppressed emotions.

"Oh," Red Hood spoke, "by the way. If you _dare_ show up at his funeral, _nobody_ , not even _Batman_ , will be able to find your bodies. 'Cept for Impulse." Red Hood looked to the grief-stricken speedster. "He can go."

The Bats made their way to the Zeta Tubes. Robin was practically attached to Red Hood's left leg, and Red Robin was tightly tucked against the right half of Red Hood, who held them both tightly as he limped beside them.

Just before they disappeared, Red Hood spoke one final time.

"Oh, and Nightwing wanted us—well, Roy, actually—to tell you that you won't have to worry about seeing him again, and he's sorry for having existed." In a flash of yellow, the Bats were gone.

Those parting words crushed whatever may have been left of the Team. They all—save for stunned Garfield, Conner, and La'gaan—broke down into hysterical sobs. Even then, tears had eased their ways down Garfield's face, cutting glinting tracks down his cheeks.

Eventually, an hour or so later, Bart calmed enough to free his teammates from their bonds and speed back to Central for some comfort.

Coursing through their minds was one question.

What had they done?

* * *

A/N: *Nobody can convince me that Jason, in the future Bart existed in, was a bad guy. He is a hero in that future through and through; fight me! ;)

I won't be translating the Spanish because, well… Those were some _pretty_ intense words Jay used, and I don't think it'd do anyone any good to know them…

Reviews, it is, then!

 **Astaroth3317:** I'm glad you like it! I guess I didn't make it clear enough, but… Dickie's dead…

 **Jenniferg7:** I'm just full of surprises, hm? Lol, but yeah. I think I should have made that clearer… I'm sorry about that! Thanks! I felt like they'd pay tribute to their brother in some way.

 **dghornick:** Babs, I'm not too good at. I don't really know about her character, nor do I quite care to just yet. She doesn't interest me, and I don't want to… do a half-assed job with it, so I won't be including much of her. She'll be at the funeral, but she won't have many speaking lines, and I won't be doing any chapters from her perspective.

 **Orion Hunts:** Thanks for the kind words and compliments! I'm glad you liked the Bat's boys getting a bit of revenge, and am flattered with your words about Dickie. I tried _really_ hard on that chapter, so your kind words are much appreciated!

 **contagiouslovexoxo:** Yep! Another one! There are still quite a few left to go, so expect the updates!

 **Same Guest As Last Time:** Yes, I did, and yes, I am. Pentecostal Christian, to be specific. I'm glad you're loving the story! It's honestly been a sort of therapy to write this, and I'm glad I've touched so many. Also glad I've gotten you hooked to the fic! :D

 **Guest:** No, I'm afraid not. I, like with Barbra, do not know Zatanna's character well—or at all—and don't want to attempt at her, because I don't want to disappoint. I _am_ sorry if I disappointed you just now with saying that, but I'm just being honest here.

 **Inthenightguest:** I'm sorry I'm just updating, but I have other stories that are ongoing as well and can't just ignore them and the readers to focus solely on this, because it wouldn't be fair, would it? I'm sorry you're dealing with that—I have too and it really was a bad time in my life. I hope things improve soon for you, and wish you the best :)

 **Love:** Dick's dead. I had to put Damian's call in after I did his death scene, and I realize that wasn't the best place to put that. I'm sorry for the mix-up!

 **Jojo Dye:** Erm… Whoops. Sorry it's so late! I really was hoping to get this out sooner but, alas, it took longer than expected to update my other two stories. Sorry!

 **annieduncan17:** I'm sorry this is out late! I'm also extremely sorry to say that Dick won't be making a miraculous recovery from death the way Jason did—not everyone's so lucky, I'm afraid. It is sad that this had to happen to bring the brothers together, hm? About Wally… well, we'll see. Thank you! I hope you liked the update!

 **fredandgeorgerule:** *looks around* Oh, wait, me?! I've never been a nurse before whatdoIdo? Lol, but I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

 **The Wonder Fan:** Here's the update! I hope you enjoyed it!

 **garbalditatiana:** First off, I hope I spelled your username right… Sorry if I didn't! Hard for me to read those letters for some reason… I'm happy you're liking it! To you, I _did_ update soon, huh? Well you got the Team's reaction, and next up is Bruce's. Hope you liked this chapter!

Have a great week, peoples!


	8. Chapter Seven:Hit Me With Your Best Shot

A/N: Not much to say, 'cept sorry for the _waaaay_ overdue update!

Review, please.

 **Recommended Song:** Wilting, by VAGUE003 (No lyrics for this one)

 **WARNING:** Masochism (technical?), Parental Abuse, Strong Language (in English)

* * *

 **Hit Me With Your Best Shot**

 _4 Maccabees 6:9—"But Elazar endured the pain, ignored the agony, and put up with the suffering."_

* * *

Stepping out from the telephone booth, Jason groaned. Tim shot him a worried glance, and Damian frowned up at him.

"Jason?"

It hurts. It hurts so _bad_. Oh, _God,_ this is pain. This… This fucking _hurts_ , but— _can't have them worrying over me._ "M'fine. Just sore." Shaking his head, Jason forces himself not to limp as he walks off towards the back-alley path that would lead them closer to one of his safehouses.

Wait, no, scratch that; A back-alley path that would lead to another Zeta for the Batcave.

He's pretty sure Tim and Damian share a look behind his back, but Jason doesn't quite care. He's got shit to get done, and it can't wait too much longer.

Tim walks on his right, and Damian scuffles somewhere to his left. Both have Jason in the middle and in front a step or two.

Because he's their big brother now; the oldest. He's their only protector now. He's their only defense.

Before, he'd been _a_ protector. _A_ defense against anything and everything that would try to harm them (yes, even Tim. That… incident, had been pardoned). With…

With Dick _gone_ , Jason's their sole protector; their lone defense.

Bruce would be _a_ defense too, but Bruce has… Issues, dealing with personal stuff.

Which is why Jason's going to be the one to break the news to the Bat. If B reacts badly, Jason wants to be the one to take the fall for it. Jason wants to be the one to deal with whatever might happen.

Jason wants to be able to do what he's failed to all these years.

Protect his brothers.

Jason has to do what he promised Dick he would…

 _Oh my God._ What he'd promised Dick he'd do… _One fucking week before he killed himself._

Dick… Dick hadn't been considering it for an entire _week_ , had he? Had it been longer?

Jason's breathing kicks up a notch and his brothers cast him odd looks behind his back, and, _"Hey, Jason, are you okay?" "Tt. Of course he's not. The idiot's pride won't let him admit it,"_ but he can hardly hear them.

 _Dick made me promise to be there for them—to take care of them and be at least civil around them "if" he died—because he was going to_ _ **off himself?**_

 _I…_

That… It's done. Jason's made the promise and it's all that's left. Jason's word is his bond, and Dick knew that.

 _Dick knew that._

Jason… Jason's not about to make Dick a liar.

He'll do anything and everything to make sure they outlive him. He doesn't want to die _after_ his little brothers. It just—no.

 _No_.

Jason needs them to outlive him because he has a promise to keep, and… and because he doesn't want to…

To bury his little brothers. To lower their caskets. To visit their graves.

He _won't._

Shaking his head to temporarily banish his thoughts, Jason pauses to look up at the roof he's supposed to climb with a drawn-out sigh.

 _This is gonna hurt._

Eventually, after a slip or two, Jason made it onto the roof, where he rolled over onto his back and gazed up at the barren blue sky.

The view is disrupted by Tim's head. Even with the cowl on, Jason could tell that Tim's raising an eyebrow. "'Just sore', huh?"

"Shut up."

Damian's head pops across from Tim's. " _Tt_ , Jason, cease the foolishness. We have somewhere to be."

Jason sighs (groans, but he won't admit it). He kind of—

"You can't get up, can you?"

And there it is.

 _You know I can't, you little smug sonofabitch._

But Jason won't admit it. Glaring at Tim through his domino, Jason scoffs. "I am perfectly capable of standing up, I just like it better down here."

"Then get up."

 _Damn it Damian._

"No."

Jason's pretty sure Tim and Damian rolled their eyes, but it's hard to tell. He knows that they both shared a look, though, and next thing he knows, Jason's being hauled to his feet.

Cuss words just _flowing_ from his mouth, Jason clutches at his torso when his little brothers let go and smirk— _smirk, those assholes_ —at him. " _Motherfuckingsonofabitch_ — _Fuck_ you _both_ ," Jason hisses.

Again, Jason's pretty sure they both roll their eyes, but he can't tell for sure. Tim was the first to turn and leap across to the next rooftop with Damian close behind. Jason groans and looks skyward again before shaking his head and following—as best he can—after his brothers.

His one repetitive thought?

 _Fuckmylifefuckmylifefuckmylifefuckmylife—THIS FUCKING_ _ **HURTS**_ _. God_ _ **DAMNIT**_ _fuck my_ _ **life**_ _._

* * *

 **Bruce**

" _With our backs to the wall,_

 _Darkness will fall,_

 _We never quite thought we could lose it all_ _._ "

— _Ready, Aim, Fire, by Imagine Dragons_

* * *

Bruce is busy analyzing a DNA sample he'd acquired for the Guadilla case when he heard the familiar voices of his two middle children and his youngest shatter the blissful silence of the cave. Sighing, he continued to sort through files in the computer as the voices neared.

"—culous notion, Timothy. How is a child's game supposed to help me with my social abilities? That is _beneath me_ and I am _not a child_."

Bruce's fingers pause as the words sunk in. Wait. His two middle children… and his youngest.

The voice just now had been… Damian's? But doesn't Damian call his brothers by their last names? And shouldn't he be _arguing_ with Tim? Arguing, of course, being death threats, Tim screaming back words that further fuel Damian's rage, etcetera.

"Well, Charades isn't just for children—adults play it all the time."

Jason?

" _Tt_. Shut up, Jason. Go sit down."

By this point, Bruce is staring at the screen as he considers alien beings using the bodies of his sons as host bodies in some grand scheme for world domination. So immersed in his thoughts, is he, that he doesn't notice when Tim walks over to stand beside him until the adolescent speaks.

"Uh, B, you're staring at a blank page."

Bruce _almost_ startles. _Almost_.

Composing himself, Bruce notices the absence of Jason and Damian's voices.

"Your brothers are here." It's phrased as a statement, but both Tim and Bruce know it's a question.

Tim pulls the cowl of his uniform down and runs a gloved hand through his mussed hair. His face had gone from blank, but relaxed, to blank, but carefully so. "Yeah."

When no elaboration was offered, Bruce opened his mouth to ask Tim a question when the teen cut him off.

"Jason needs to, um, talk to you." Then his second middle child was walking away, towards the lockers as he undid the clasps of his uniform.

 _That was… Vague. Oddly so._ It then struck Bruce that Dick hadn't been with the other three, and they'd all been together. Dick wouldn't have missed out on something like this for the world.

That, again, is odd.

Rising from his seat, Bruce makes his way to the Med-Bay where he suspects Jason to be with Damian.

 _What could Jason possibly have to say to me? Don't tell me he's killed someone again and this is him excusing it._ Bruce sighs as he stands at the doors. _We've been doing so good too._ Stepping through, Bruce notices Alfred's already there, apparently taping up Jason's ribs, while Jason hisses and spits out profanities that would make even a Crime Alley resident blush, completely straight-faced and a tad amused.

Damian is sitting on a table against the wall the foot of the gurney faces, folding his legs underneath him and smirking at Jason's use of obscenities, because all the boys know the punishment for cursing: no cookies for three straight weeks.

Jason's sitting on the bed, leaning back on his right arm, with the other raised above his head. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is tucked against his chest.

Bruce decides to announce his presence the way he normally does. Just start talking, and if someone has a heart attack, oh well as long as they're fine. "Jason. Tim said you wanted a word?" And Bruce can't help but raise an eyebrow at Jason when he jumps slightly at Bruce's voice.

Surely he hadn't surprised the Red Hood that much, right?

Jason's eyes open and he spits out another cuss word or two before answering. "Jesus, B, don't fucking _do_ that." He takes a deep breath, and Bruce looks at Damian. The look he gives his son says _'We're going to discuss what happened earlier after this, so be prepared,'_ and Damian's nose wrinkles as he hops off the table and excuses himself from the Med-Bay room.

Alfred finishes and tosses the trash in the disposal, looking between the two in question.

Jason lowers his arm, wincing as he does so, and speaks. "Stay, Al, because I'd rather kill,"—Jason winces a bit at the word, and Bruce's suspicions rise—"two birds with one stone."

Bruce raises a brow. What is that supposed to mean?

When Alfred takes a hesitant moment but nods all the same, Jason turns his head and looks Bruce straight in the eyes and says, "Dick is dead."

And Bruce just… stares, because he heard that wrong right? Jason's just joking right?

A voice in his head—the Batman part of Bruce—whispers that Jason's telling the truth. Body language is stiff, sure, but that could be discomfort. Pain. Everything else suggests the words that Jason spoke were true: his gaze never wavered, he didn't fumble with his words, his face hasn't twitched in the slightest, and he's completely still.

Bruce's father-figure stared at Jason with a horrified and stricken look on his face, his eyes wide and disbelieving. His hand went to rest over his heart, and the other reached out to land on Jason's shoulder.

One can always rely on Alfred when words fail them.

"I _beg your pardon_ Master Jason?"

Jason's face goes from stony and expressionless to pained and agonized the next second.

Bruce can tell it's not his injuries that make the wall fall part when Jason speaks and his voice breaks off at the start of the sentence. "Di—," Jason clears his throat and lowers his eyes to the ground once more, squeezing them shut. "Dick's dead," he manages to repeat in a whisper as he raises his head to look Bruce in the eye again.

And Bruce just _snaps_. Jason's being too sincere—too goddamned _honest_ —to be lying. The look Jason gives him _accuses_ him of too much, and Jason needs to _stop looking at him like that_.

So Bruce blinks, and Jason's head is facing the left. Bruce is panting and blood starts dribbling slowly, shyly, down the left corner of Jason's mouth. A red mark is already blooming on Jason's cheek and Bruce knows what he's done the instant Alfred confirms his dreading suspicion with a shocked, "Master _Bruce_."

Jason lifts his right hand to his cheek without turning his head, gently prodding at the blossoming splotch on his face as he tests his jaw: opening and closing it without sealing his lips.

Bruce can't help but just stand there, stunned even as Jason spits out a glop of blood on the concrete floor of the Med-Bay. It's not until Alfred's hand moves from Jason's shoulder to Bruce's own that he reacts. "J—Jason, I'm sorry. I… That was uncalled for and I should not have hit you. I… I'm sorry, son." _I'm sorry for hitting you, I'm sorry for thinking the worst of you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

His son doesn't reply and Alfred worriedly inspects the mark. Jason just waves the old butler off and stands up. "It—no, Bruce, it's fine. I deserved that. Really, I had that coming."

And Bruce is stunned into silence again. The lack of sound—even the _Bats_ are silent—weighs like a heavy fog who's sole purpose is to suffocate, in the room until Jason speaks again.

He's looking back down at the ground again when he whispers what he does. "Dickie killed himself." It comes out almost a mumble and when Bruce tips his son's head up and looks him in the eyes, Bruce sees the shock and understanding in his son's wide eyes.

Jason hadn't fully grasped the meaning of the words until now.

And all he can do is repeat the words over and over as tears begin to crawl down his face, cutting tracks through thin layers of dirt and dripping from his chin. It's as if Jason finally linked the pain of Dick's death with the pain of the punch and intensified it.

Alfred has to take a seat in one of the chairs next to the gurney, lowering his head into his hands. His whole body trembles and Bruce can see the darkening of the old butler's gloves as his tears wet them.

Bruce himself has checked out. His body is moving as he wraps his arms around Jason and mutters apologies, but it's not Bruce doing it per-se. Bruce feels like he just had a large chunk of himself torn away, never to return unless whoever sustained it came back. Bruce feels like he did when he watched the warehouse turn into a pile of flaming rubble, with ash and embers decorating his suit as if Dick himself were arranging them.

Bruce feels the way he did when he watched Thomas and Martha die. When he kneeled in the pooling blood and gazed at the scattered pearls of his mom's necklace. When he cradled his mother's head in his lap and held his father's cooling hand.

Oh the _pain_ that gleefully and excitedly pours into Bruce nearly chokes him, but it's hard to choke when you're already _drowning_.

Jason untangles himself from Bruce's hold after a few minutes and excuses himself as he walks out of the room, supporting his grandfather as he sobs into his resurrected grandson's chest.

All Bruce does is brace is arms on the medical gurney and tremble and shake.

...Until he snaps again, slamming a fist onto the bed and just _yelling_. He does it again, and again, and again until his throat is raw and his voice hoarse. _Then_ , he screams and shouts the injustice of outliving his sons _three times_.

No parent should _ever_ outlive their child. _Especially three times._

 _No parent,_ and Batman—fucking _Bruce_ , is no exception.

 _ **No**_ _parent._

* * *

A/N: 2,698 words. One of the longest chapters yet. *Drawn-out whistle*

So, reviews! (Please continue to leave them, because I absolutely adore them and your thoughts, guys! Ask my brother—he'll tell you)

 **HorsemanOTA:** Thanks so much (I'm taking "quite something" as a good something XD)! Nice to hear that I tugged heartstrings, because while I don't aim to, it's nice to know I can affect my readers like that. I'm afraid I don't know what you mean by "peachy keen", but I get the gist. Yeah, I killed Dickie off, but that doesn't mean I hate him. As I said in the Author's Note in the first chapter: I love YJ Dick Grayson especially (but not above comic/YJ Jason and Tim), but… I kinda needed to write this. Well here's Bruce's chapter! Alfred's will be a little later, because I find it hard to fully grasp his mentality and way of seeing things (don't know why), so I hope you can wait a bit? No problem, and I'm glad you enjoy my writing :)

 **Astaroth3317:** I'm happy you liked the chapter! It was satisfying to write, but I still didn't like the end result but, hey, if I didn't post it then, I never would have. It was not an issue! I realized that there was still some confusion, so I had to clear things up a bit, and I'm glad it helped. Thanks for the Review!

 **Ashuri:** *Squealing* I'm so happy to hear that! That you're telling me you cried and laughed is such a high compliment in itself, so thanks for telling me that! I hope you didn't run out of Kleenex and ice cream because of me…

 **Inthenightguest:** Thank you so much! I'm really thrilled to hear you like all the chapters I post, and that you look forward to the updates! Thanks for those words :) Going through that… Yeah, I'm happy I'm doing better too. I hope things improve for you too! Haha, thanks!

 **Guest:** *pats your back* Awwww! Don't worry! The boys will… uh… They'll be… ( _Ican'tlietoyou_ ) Yeah lemme just—*hands you Kleenex boxes and plays happy music*—there. Now, um. I hope you feel happier…! *quickly backs away*

 **fredandgeorgerule:** Haha! I'm sorryyyy~! In my defense, I didn't plan on you reading at 12am… Thanks so much! Yeah, I think a lot of people expected that, but Jason saying that would have hurt Damian and Tim, and would've broken his promise to Dick, so.

 **LightningCat2067:** Thaaank you~! No, believe me, you're not. Gah! La'gaan just presses every single, _last_ one of my buttons and I just can't with him. _Ohhh, no._

 **Rookblonkorules:** Thanks so much for doing me that favor, Rook! I really, really appreciate it, and I hope that the readers did too :D Anytime you need a favor or two, don't hesitate to ask!

 **Disco-Wing:** ( _holycrapshereadandreviewedononeofmystories_ ) I don't know if I should say thank you, or I'm sorry, so I'll say both. Thanks for leaving the Review, first off, and thanks for telling me that I was able to hit close to home. I'm sorry that I can, because experiencing that _sucks_ , and that you trembled. I updated! *checks date* …21 days later! (dang) I'm glad you enjoy my responses to the Reviewers too! Happy writing, and, again, thanks so much for the Review! (I'm _honored_ )

 **garibalditatiana:** Thanks so much! Well, I got the charger (fuckin' _finally_ ), so I can update! yAY! 8D Whether or not Cass is coming in is a spoiler, don't you think? ;) Glad I've gotten you to love this story, and I hope you keep Reviewing!

Thanks so much for those of you who Review, and for those of you who send silent support! I love responding to you and your Reviews, so it means a lot!

Have a great week everyone!

(3,275 words... DAMN!)


End file.
